


Hot Enough

by replaydebut



Category: K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mirror Sex, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 15:22:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/replaydebut/pseuds/replaydebut
Summary: It had come to a point where they had fucked on nearly every surface of the apartment.Minho turned to look at the mirror again. Slowly an idea began to form itself in the back of his brain.





	Hot Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nuukacola](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuukacola/gifts).

> So, I started this fic nearly a year ago, and it was supposed to be for Kinktober 2018. Since then, I kept neglecting it in favor of other ideas that grabbed ahold of me way too tightly to let go!
> 
> But, I never forgot about it, in part because of my good friend Sadie who was patiently waiting for it to finally come into existence. 
> 
> So, without further ado, on this lovely Key day I am finally presenting this fic to the world!!
> 
> Title from [Hot Enough](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_pfipPz0UM) by Vixx <3

  


  


It started innocuously enough, and with actions that were more familiar than strange.

The mirror was a mundane fixture in their daily life, tall and wide enough that it covered the wall near the entryway to the apartment across from the kitchen counter. Every morning Kibum used it for last minute check-ups to his hair or makeup as Minho watched—stealing glances from where he cooked their breakfast. 

The living area opened up from the kitchen with their couch just a few yards away from the mirror. If Minho ever leaned his head far enough back on the arm of it while Kibum was nestled between his legs sucking him off, he could watch his own expressions of pleasure looking back at him.

He thought about that now as Kibum stood in front of the mirror. He took a tube of chapstick from the coin purse dangling on his wrist and applied a thin layer, the pink of his lips popping with a faint hint of color. The dogs yipped at Kibum’s feet for attention, and Kibum cooed at them quietly as he preened. Minho watched Kibum’s reflection in the mirror and the back of his head that faced him.

“I picked this out at that store I told you about in Apgujeong,” Kibum had said about the mirror on the day they moved in. “Isn’t it cute?”

Minho had been unnerved by its presence, how he was always looking at himself while engaged in the most routine tasks in the kitchen; how his reflection reinforced the bags under his eyes or the wrinkles in his shirts. 

Every time he caught his own eye in the mirror those times when he was stretched out on the couch with Kibum between his thighs, he would look away with a burst of shame. 

Minho’s stolen glances were lasting longer than he intended today. He was caught up in the way Kibum looked over himself with a calculating gaze, the way he smoothed out the hair of his eyebrows with practiced strokes, the way he straightened the collar of his shirt and tucked the ends into his pants with deft fingers. 

“What are you looking at?” Kibum’s clear voice rang out as he turned around and caught Minho’s eye. Minho flushed and his head snapped back down to where he was fiddling with the rice cooker.

“Nothing,” he said, voice gruff and face warm with embarrassment. 

He heard Kibum’s clothes rustling as he walked around the kitchen counter, and he could smell the clean, crisp scent of his perfume as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss behind Minho’s ear.

“Wait up for me tonight,” Kibum said with his voice raised almost like a question.

“I always do,” Minho told him, and that earned him one of Kibum’s genuine wide smiles that made Minho’s heart race and rattle in his chest. 

After Kibum left, grabbing his iced coffee from the fridge and stealing a bite of Minho’s breakfast as he dashed out the door—Minho considered the mirror. 

Morning sunlight from the kitchen window painted a stripe of light across Minho’s face as he looked at his reflection. He could almost see Kibum’s fierce gaze reflected back, fluffing a section of his hair that was laying too flat against his head, or patting a last layer of concealer under his eyes with the pad of his pinky finger. 

Minho reached out to touch the surface of the mirror, its coolness vibrating under his hand. He watched the sunlight trickle in and warm his skin, and he could feel his own shy eyes from mornings past on the arm of the couch, looking through him. 

He turned around, and took a good look at the couch. There must’ve been indentions in the cushions from all the times Kibum had bracketed Minho’s thighs there, bouncing on his dick until his body trembled in climax. It had come to a point where they had fucked on nearly every surface of the apartment. 

The bed was a worn out piece of furniture, having seen their bodies intertwined in countless positions, and the shower was Kibum’s favorite place to jack Minho off; to watch his body shake against the granite wall as he battled the slippery floor trying to hold himself upright. 

They had even used the bar stools once. It had been a morning when Kibum felt particularly frisky and Minho had looked at him with just the right amount of suggestion in his eyes for Kibum to crawl into Minho’s lap and rut against him until they both came in their pajama pants. 

Kibum’s head had been perched on Minho’s shoulder and he had stared at himself in the mirror until Minho’s hand cupping his ass and rubbing him through the thin fabric of his clothes had made him shudder and cry out.

Minho turned to look at the mirror again. Slowly an idea began to form itself in the back of his brain.

  


  
\---

  


“I’m home!” Kibum called as he clicked open the front door and swayed into the apartment, dropping shopping bags on the kitchen counter. The dogs barked happily and crowded around his feet. 

“Hey kids, did you miss me?” Kibum asked, scratching behind their ears and under their bellies until they became interested in the chew toys sitting under the barstools. Kibum threw them down the hall so the dogs could follow, and walked over to the living room. 

“I bought that moisturizer that I kept telling you to order for yourself,” Kibum said. “I can’t bear to see your skin so dry anymore. It was seriously killing me.”

Minho turned towards him from where he was seated on the couch watching TV and smiled. “I was going to get it eventually. You have no faith in me.”

Kibum grinned with a knowing glint in his eye and circled around the front of the couch to loop his arms around Minho’s neck. “Keep talking,” he said as he settled himself in his lap. 

Kibum’s beret sat slightly crooked on his head, and his chapstick had worn off. His mouth was lined with bare spots of skin where his BB cream had vanished after so many hours of sipping iced coffee from his reusable cup.

“Did you miss me?” Kibum asked in his sweet, teasing way. Minho flicked the edge of his beret in response. 

“Of course not,” Minho said, but he was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt a little. 

Kibum rolled his eyes and leaned in to kiss him, tugging on the hair at the base of his neck just a bit, just to get a soft surprised groan out of his mouth. Minho had been thinking about this during the day, about Kibum’s sure fingers wrapping around him and the curve of his smile when their lips touched.

But, he had also been thinking of other, not so conventional things. 

Minho broke the kiss, and held onto Kibum’s hips. “I have an idea.”

Kibum raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow in curiosity. “I’m intrigued,” he said as he shifted around on Minho’s lap, layers of clothes between them creating a buzzing friction. 

Minho smirked and slipped his hands up to Kibum’s waist, pulling him close as he maneuvered them both until Minho was laying down. He made sure to lean against the arm of the couch, so that when he turned his head to the side he would see his flushed face looking back. 

Kibum followed Minho’s line of sight, how he flicked his eyes over to the mirror in nervous blinks. He let out a sharp breath of understanding and then inched forward to crawl up Minho’s body, grab his face and kiss him deep. 

Minho clutched Kibum’s hips, soft fabric of his tight jeans rubbing on skin. Kibum happily rutted into him, huffing out little breaths as he sucked on his bottom lip and pressed hot into his mouth. 

Kibum stole another glance towards the mirror after Minho hummed out a moan, and his hips stilled. Minho followed his gaze, and their eyes locked with their reflections. Kibum twisted his hips in an experimental motion again, and Minho crumbled, eyes squeezing shut and a whine escaping. 

Kibum grinned like a cat and they kissed until Minho was breathless. 

“While I am enjoying this,” Kibum started after a few long minutes of hands roaming and teeth clashing. He pulled away to straighten out his rumpled clothes. “It can’t have been your entire idea.”

Kibum’s cheeks were pink and his beret had long since been tossed to the floor. The top buttons of Minho’s shirt had been undone, and the sound of the evening news on TV droned on behind them. Minho looked at himself in the mirror. 

“No, there’s more to it,” he said. 

Kibum watched the way he looked at himself, watched the cut of his strong jaw and the manly outline of his profile that still radiated a youthful softness. He smirked. 

“You should show me after I make dinner,” Kibum said, and he leaned down to press a kiss to Minho’s cheek. 

Minho turned his head back to look at Kibum. “I think you’ve figured it out already.”

Kibum rolled his eyes and climbed off Minho’s lap, walking into the kitchen to start unloading his grocery bags. “Now, where would the fun be in that?” 

Kibum’s hair was disheveled from where Minho had tugged on it when he’d been sucking hickeys along his collarbone. The bright red ascot Kibum had been wearing was loose around his neck, a product of Minho tugging it down feverishly to lick at the skin there. He eyed the spot as he considered Kibum’s remark.

“You like it that way, already knowing what I want,” Minho said, walking around the counter to rummage in the cabinet for cooking oil.

“Me? Never,” Kibum insisted, but his eyes were sparkling with mischief as he pulled a box of penne from his shopping bag.

“How do you feel about rosé pasta?”

  


  
\---

  


After dinner, after rinsing their dishes and filling the dogs’ bowls with fresh water, Kibum stood in front of the mirror. He stood with his his hip cocked to the side and arms crossed—in deep consideration the same way Minho had been that morning.

There seemed to be a string of tension in the air—palpable enough that Minho felt like any wrong move on either of their parts’ would break it into pieces instantly. 

He walked behind Kibum, slipping a hand up the back of his shirt and tucking his head into the crook of his neck to place a kiss there. Kibum inhaled sharply, and his body swayed to meet Minho’s. 

Their eyes locked in the reflection of the mirror. Kibum still had his arms crossed, eyebrows pointed in thought and body not yet giving in to Minho’s touches. This push and pull was nothing entirely new. 

“You said I figured it out already?” he asked, talking to Minho in the mirror. 

Minho scraped his nails down Kibum’s back swiftly, and Kibum huffed out of his nose.

“I’m pretty sure you did,” Minho replied. 

“Tell me then.” Kibum relaxed his arms, reaching them back to pull Minho’s out of his shirt and guide his hands down to the front of his pants. 

He shifted, moving Minho’s hands over his own body, guiding them to feel him up as he pressed back. Minho shuddered but complied, his hips kicking forward in their desperation to be closer; always closer to Kibum.

He flushed as he looked up, watched himself in the mirror as he spoke. 

“My idea...” he began, cheeks already heating up in shame. He turned his face to the side, away from Kibum’s steady gaze, and his own nervous blinking eyes. 

“Go on.” Kibum reached up to grab Minho’s jaw and turn his face forward. Minho let out a shaky sigh, watching Kibum’s fingers flex on his skin. 

“My idea was to fuck you against the mirror,” Minho said, eyes twitching because they wanted to close, to look away from his flushed and embarrassed face. Kibum’s hand was unrelenting. 

“And watch yourself right?” Kibum prompted, a small smirk curling up the side of his face. He pressed his ass back further, and Minho moaned involuntarily. 

“And you,” he said, sliding one hand up Kibum’s side and wrapping it around his neck. He leaned forward, dick nudging Kibum as one leg spread his thighs and his other guided their bodies up to the mirror’s surface. 

He couldn’t deny a feeling of nervousness prompted by such a forward confession, but the surprised moan that Kibum let slip out as soon as they collided with the cool surface sent Minho’s head reeling. 

He pulled his hand away from Kibum’s crotch and used it to unbuckle his pants, swiftly tugging them down his hips. The belt buckle clattered to the wood floor with a sharp, metallic sound as they dropped. 

They smirked at each other in the mirror, and Kibum continued the unrelenting press of his ass into Minho’s crotch, rutting against the curve of his cock with the smallest movements of his hips. He was meticulous and crafty in the way he always coaxed little noises and shaky breaths out of Minho’s throat. 

Kibum was still wearing his clean, neat dress shirt, looking overly large on him now that he had nothing on besides his underwear. Minho was still fully clothed with his skin heating under his jeans and T-shirt. 

Kibum turned around swiftly, eyes alight with curiosity and an edge of excitement. He scraped his nails up Minho’s abs as he pulled his shirt off, feeling up the taut muscles of his chest. Minho fumbled as he quickly unbuttoned his jeans and reached for Kibum’s shirt buttons. 

“You wanna fuck me?” Kibum began his teasing, hands sliding down Minho’s body until they sat at the waistband of his underwear. “You’ve been thinking about it all day?”

Minho felt his cheeks heat up, not wanting to admit it but knowing the answer was obvious. He was already embarrassed at how easily Kibum had gleaned his plans; how easily he’d cracked the code and was changing the rules Minho had outlined in the quiet of his mind. 

Kibum pulled his head down in a kiss before he could answer properly, leaving his own dress shirt unbuttoned but still clinging to his shoulders. Minho leaned into the hand in his hair willingly, and Kibum’s back hit the mirror with a soft thud. 

He let out a huff of breath and nipped at Minho’s bottom lip as he pulled away, fingers curled into the silky depths of his hair, freshly washed and flowing in dark waves.

“Yes,” Minho admitted, watching his reflection over Kibum’s shoulder. He tried to look serious, but the pink color on his cheeks gave him away. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day.” 

Kibum smirked and reached out to trail his fingers up Minho’s clothed cock, sure and poised. Minho shuddered and planted a hand on the mirror next to Kibum’s head to keep himself from going down to his knees.

“Do it then,” Kibum taunted further still, tugging Minho’s hips closer by the waistband of his boxers. Minho pulled them off quickly, feeling strangely like Kibum had grabbed the reins even though Minho himself was the one who had orchestrated this whole idea. 

He kicked his underwear and jeans down the hallway, not sparing a glance for where they happened to land. Kibum slipped his dress shirt off and peeled off his own underwear, folding the shirt up neatly and laying it on the barstool. Minho snorted. 

“It can’t get wrinkled,” Kibum defended himself with a snap of his head in Minho’s direction. “Unless you want to be the one to take it to the dry cleaners.” 

Minho chuckled at his stern tone, and pulled Kibuum close by his waist, planting a kiss on his shoulder as he brought him back up to the mirror. 

“I think I’ll pass this time,” he said, sinking his teeth in at the juncture between Kibum’s shoulder and neck to make him squirm. Kibum grumbled under his breath, flushed and embarrassed at how much he liked it.

“Just fuck me if you’re going to,” Kibum taunted, but a quiet smile looked back at Minho in the mirror as he leaned into his touch. 

Minho complied, walking the short distance to the bathroom to get the lube from the sink drawer. Kibum always rolled his eyes at that, insisting that it be placed in one of his many metal skincare organizers instead. Minho always forgot to put it back there after they were done using it, and tossing it in the bathroom drawer seemed much quicker. 

“Can you put it back in the right place this time?” Kibum complained. 

Minho’s heart squeezed. Kibum looked so _cute_ just standing there with his ass out and a whiny pout on his face. He decided he would make a point to put the lube in the wrong place again just because of that; just so he could see that pout again next time.

“Sure,” Minho grinned, and Kibum’s expression smoothed out into one of triumph. He grabbed Minho’s wrist and pulled him closer. 

Minho squirted two generous pumps of lube onto his fingers, slipping his hands down Kibum’s back until he reached the curve of his ass, pressing his thumbs into the soft skin and spreading Kibum open. Kibum placed his palms on the surface of the mirror, shifting to spread his legs wider and push his ass out towards Minho’s proudly. 

Kibum looked over his shoulder when he felt the huff of Minho’s laugh on his back. He sneered just a bit, the sharp glint in his eyes stoking the fire in Minho’s belly. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Minho said, smiling as his did so and slowly teasing Kibum with one finger. 

“You didn’t have to,” Kibum said back, pushing out even further and flicking his hair with a toss of his head before turning back around. 

Minho just pressed his finger in with a focused precision, and Kibum shuddered. His forehead knocked with the mirror and Minho inched closer, feeling the curve of the back of Kibum’s thighs against his own. 

“Feeling shy?” Kibum taunted, lifting his head to shoot Minho a sharp glare in the mirror, a look that invited an equally cheeky response. Minho’s body thrummed with the thrill of the teasing, a pleasant hum he always anticipated with Kibum. 

“Hardly...” Minho replied, pressing even closer until he crooked his head into the side of Kibum’s neck, nipping at the skin. Kibum laughed, further antagonizing. It was a laugh that said: _“Is that all you got?”_

Minho was a step ahead, for once, and he sucked hard on the skin between Kibum’s shoulder and collarbone as he reached his free hand around to squeeze one of Kibum’s nipples. Kibum let out a surprised sound, breathless and shaky. He squirmed against Minho’s touch, leaning into it as he blushed.

“Kind of the opposite of shy, don’t you think?” Minho whispered, continuing to tease as he circled a second finger around the skin of Kibum’s hole and prepared to slip it in alongside the first. 

Kibum shivered, not dignifying Minho with a response. Instead, he urged him to slip in the second finger, spreading his legs wider and bucking his hips. Minho thought briefly about continuing the teasing; about letting the game go on in endless rounds of push and pull. He imagined the secret thrill of taunting Kibum until he gave in, in much the same way Kibum always taunted him. 

The view he had of Kibum underneath him was too good to give up, though, and the desire burning hot through his body wasn’t willing to take things slow. He wanted him, wanted to watch Kibum squirm against the mirror, and wanted to watch himself pushing inside. The thought made him blush, and he tried to hide his face discreetly in Kibum’s hair as he nudged in his second finger. 

“I knew it,” Kibum caught on immediately. “Always so shy, even when you’re trying to show off.”

Minho grinned quietly, and moved his fingers deliberate circles, pulling pleased sighs out of Kibum. His cock was hard and pressing into the warmth of Kibum’s body just centimeters in front of him. He could hardly keep himself from pushing forward and rutting against him.

Kibum was watching himself more than he was watching Minho, his gaze sensual and dark as he stared. Minho wanted those eyes trained on him, and the knowledge was overwhelming. He rubbed a third finger around Kibum’s hole, and Kibum’s hot breath fogged the mirror in front of him. He accommodated the third finger quickly, hanging his head in between his arms as he inhaled and exhaled, further spreading himself open as Minho fucked him. 

“Getting tired?” Minho prompted, gripping Kibum’s hip with his free hand. 

“Never,” Kibum said fiercely, and Minho slowly slipped his fingers out.

Kibum whined a little, impatient as ever, but he took the opportunity to stretch his arms, and Minho gave himself a quick, placating tug. Kibum’s eyes sparkled dangerously. 

Before he turned him back around, Minho leaned in for a kiss. Kibum hummed into it graciously, and Minho savored the soft press of his lips, the bump of his nose to Kibum’s cheek, and the feeling of his fingers gripping his arm to pull him closer. 

They shared a smile when they pulled away, and it was one that Minho had come to look forward to more than anything else. It was one of the secret ways that Kibum said, _‘I love you.’_ Through the curve of his grin that bloomed full in his eyes, or through the boisterous laughter that he let slip when Minho said something funny; these were the ways his love came out.

Not through complicated words, but through the warmest of expressions. 

Kibum couldn’t keep the grin from his face as he turned around, and Minho couldn’t stop the giddy feeling rising in his chest as he spread Kibum open and slowly rubbed the head of his cock against his hole. He pushed in, slow and sure. 

They shared a moan, full of relief and gratitude at the feeling of their bodies finally pressed so close. Minho inched in, pulling Kibum towards him with his hands on his hips. Kibum reciprocated the movement, leaning into the touch and letting Minho direct him back onto his cock. 

“As good as you imagined?” Kibum teased, voice low and sultry. 

Minho huffed, gripping Kibum’s hips harder and rubbing his thumbs in circles on his ass. He gave a sly grin. “I don’t know...I pictured you being louder for me.”

Kibum snorted and rolled his eyes, pushing back against Minho’s thrusts as he found a rhythm. “You wish.”

He was used to that kind of response from Kibum, and it sent a jolt of heat through his groin, but underneath that he wanted a little more. He wanted to push for it. 

Kibum’s back curved out prettily in front of him, soft slope of his shoulders leading down to his trim waist, and eventually giving way to the small but perky curve of his ass. Minho gripped it with both hands, spreading the cheeks apart slowly to watch himself push in and out. 

He swore low under his breath, and Kibum smirked into the mirror. He wiggled his hips a little, clearly wanting to put on a show. Minho couldn’t help how much it riled him up, watching Kibum shake around him. 

“So easy sometimes,” Kibum commented, breathy from the influence of his arousal. “Getting off on watching yourself. I should’ve known.”

Minho gripped Kibum’s ass harder, slowly spread his thumb across one side in contemplation. He sighed through his nose, embarrassment lighting up his cheeks and nervousness buzzing in his fingertips. 

“Hush,” Minho chastised quietly, then drew his hand back and let it collide with Kibum’s ass with a loud smack. 

Kibum choked on a moan.

A moment of silence fell. Even Minho’s breathing quieted down, becoming nothing but the smallest whisper falling on Kibum’s bare shoulders. His hand was still there, warm on Kibum’s skin and itching to feel his palm collide with it again. Kibum locked eyes with him in the mirror. 

There was something there—the smallest question. Minho gulped. 

“Do it again,” Kibum’s voice was low, hot and commanding with an edge of embarrassment. It sent a jolt of heat down Minho’s spine. 

“What was that?” He was feeling brave, maybe even too brave.

Kibum scowled, but it was hidden behind his blush. “Just do it again.”

Minho grinned, feeling triumphant like he’d finally grabbed the reins back. This hadn’t been part of his plan, but somehow it felt right—the natural progression of what had been building between them. He smoothed his hand out across Kibum’s cheek again, then pulled back and waited for an agonizing moment, before smacking his ass again. 

Kibum shuddered all over, moan trembling from his lips as he leaned forward and rested his head on the mirror, hair falling in his eyes. 

“You like it?” Minho teased, wanting to hear more. 

Kibum wasn’t going to let him have it so easily, and he pressed back with a fierce insistence. Minho responded with a hard thrust, hands tight on Kibum’s hips as he fucked him deeper. His skin was already tinged a light pink color from the forcefulness of Minho’s hand. He shivered at the sight of it, and rubbed his palm over the marks soothingly. 

“Yes, I like it,” Kibum whispered, giving in just a little bit more. Minho groaned as he snapped his hips faster, hands tight on Kibum’s hips and face buried in his hair. He smelled clean like his fancy shampoo but it was offset by the sharp smell of sweat and arousal that made Minho’s head spin. 

He pulled back slowly, almost slipping out all the way. Kibum whined, quiet in the back of his throat, and Minho kept his eyes on the mirror to see how flushed Kibum’s face was. He swore under his breath as he pressed back in, and accompanied the movement with another smack of Kibum’s ass.

Kibum moaned louder, raising his head up and looking at Minho in the mirror. They stared at each other as Minho fucked him, feeling him push back on his cock with every shift of Minho’s hips. Kibum’s cheeks and chest were red, but his eyes were smoldering. Minho felt himself coming undone—the slow unraveling that Kibum always initiated. 

He spanked him again, two times in quick succession, and Kibum’s face crumpled each time with a desperate whine. He kicked his hips back fervently, squeezing around Minho as if to demand more. 

Minho kept going, each time speeding his thrusts up as the sound of Kibum’s moans and the feeling of his body pushing back to meet his own pulled him closer to the edge. He tasted Kibum’s sweat as he licked up his neck, and he felt his legs getting shaky as his climax continued building.

“Almost done?” Kibum challenged, but he was practically out of breath himself, hand slipping on the mirror and thighs trembling. “Always so fast.”

Minho grunted in protest, and held Kibum’s hips tight as he continued, pleasure melting his thoughts away and replacing them with only Kibum’s name. He moaned into his hair, hiding his face in embarrassment, being seen too deeply by his own face in the mirror again.

Kibum made a small noise of disapproval, and Minho felt fingers on his jaw, warm and firm as Kibum tugged his face up and made Minho look. He held him there, thumb and middle finger on each side as he slowly slipped his pointer finger between Minho’s parted lips. 

The pressure was heavy on his tongue, settling there after rubbing along the inside edge of his bottom lip. Minho’s eyes slipped closed in bliss, sucking on Kibum’s finger with an embarrassing amount of neediness. 

“Perfect for me,” Kibum whispered softly, and Minho couldn’t help how that got to him.

His hips kicked forward, desperate as he pulled Kibum back onto him and his rhythm dissolved into pure want. He moaned around Kibum’s finger, letting himself fall willingly into the hold Kibum had on him. 

“That’s right,” Kibum coaxed, breath ragged and legs wobbly from the force of keeping himself upright as pleasure overwhelmed him. “Come for me.”

Minho’s hips stuttered, a whine catching in his throat as his thrusts became erratic and he felt the warmth in his belly spreading through to his toes. He groaned as he came, fingers pressing hard into Kibum’s ass—soft skin blooming a delicate pink color. 

Minho’s breathing evened out as he came down, fuzziness in his brain dissipating as the soreness in his legs made itself apparent. Kibum slipped his finger out of his mouth, spit clinging to it and a line of drool shining on his nail. Minho blushed, but Kibum just smirked and wiped it across Minho’s cheek with a playful laugh. 

“Gross,” Minho pretended to complain. 

“It’s from your mouth,” Kibum defended, and winced slightly as Minho pulled out. The sound was wet and too loud in the quiet that filled the room, but Kibum was still hard and wanting. 

His cock pointed out proudly, leaking at the tip. The sight of it made Minho’s arousal stir again, a low hum that needed no attention, just acknowledgment that Kibum made him feel wild with desire. He kissed down his back, feeling tender after such a heated experience. Kibum leaned into the touch. 

“Don’t leave me hanging,” he grinned, voice quiet and teasing. Minho smiled into his shoulder and reached his hand around. Kibum moaned as soon as Minho’s palm rubbed up the side of his dick. 

He held Kibum at the base of his neck with his free hand as he touched him, at first going for quick, teasing strokes, but soon finding a rhythm that made Kibum swear as he chased the movements of Minho’s hand. Minho pressed in with his thumb on the upstroke, and squeezed just lightly at the tip before coming back down. 

Kibum kicked his hips forward, eyes fluttering shut as he lost himself in the feeling. Minho sighed right behind his ear, placing a tiny kiss there as he sped up his pace. Kibum followed his rhythm, and let out little ‘ah’s as he got closer. 

“I never will,” Minho whispered, replying to Kibum’s comment without needing to. Kibum opened his eyes when he said it, warm smile spreading across his face before the immediacy of his orgasm overtook him. He clutched to Minho as he moaned and fell forward, hips jerking as he came.

His cum hit the mirror and Minho’s fingers as his thrusts slowed and his body went limp. Kibum panted, breathless as he plopped down on the floor, legs spread and elbows leaning on his knees. 

“Got your brand new mirror all dirty,” Minho commented with a smug grin as he sat down next to Kibum. 

“Shut up,” Kibum grumbled with a smile, nudging his shoulder playfully and using the movement as an excuse to fall into him. 

They leaned their heads on each other, breathing steadily as a pleasant warmth buzzed around them. Minho felt a little exposed, as if he’d admitted some secrets that were too hard to put into words. Kibum’s cum was drying on his hand and the floor was uncomfortable underneath him, but he realized that this vulnerability wasn’t awkward or unwelcome. 

He pressed a kiss to Kibum’s temple, and savored the simple gesture. 

“You know,” Kibum started, turning his head to look at Minho. “You said I knew what you wanted, but I wasn’t totally expecting that.”

Minho grinned, a sense of accomplishment rising in his chest. “Well, I have to keep you on your toes somehow, right?”

Kibum narrowed his eyes, and Minho wasn’t surprised that he could likely see through him. It had always been that way, but Kibum’s shrewdness never annoyed him anymore. It was comfortable to be known.

“Keep on trying,” Kibum smirked, but his eyes were full of delight. 

He tugged Minho down, fingers in his hair and lips catching at just the right moment. They kissed, and it was as exhilarating for Minho as it had been the very first time—deep and warm with Kibum’s fingers strong as he held him there.

They kissed, and it was full of understanding; of every word that never needed saying.

  


  


**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Kibum~~
> 
> Let me know what you thought in the comments ^^ kudos always appreciated too <3
> 
> If you want, you can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/charmlesstrans) and [tumblr!](https://replaydebut.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


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